


Never Enough

by Im_The_Doctor (Bofur1)



Series: The Thinker, The Feeler [4]
Category: Transformers: Rescue Bots
Genre: Academy Era, Caring, Concern, Developing Relationship, Emotionally Repressed, Explanations, Headaches & Migraines, Heatwave is a Good Friend, Hurt/Comfort, Late Night Conversations, Overworking, Partnership, Pre-Earth Transformers, Sleep Deprivation, Stress, Studying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 13:58:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10219766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bofur1/pseuds/Im_The_Doctor
Summary: A certain Police Bot is proving to be rather skilled at pushing himself past healthy limits. Heatwave has always been in favor of good, hard work, but this is getting ridiculous.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Enclosed in the story is a headcanon credited to delkios on tumblr. I suggest you read that story first but it's not severely mandatory. If you want to read the headcanon, go [here](http://delkios.tumblr.com/tagged/rescue-bots) and look for "Everything's Alright".
> 
> If you want the short version, it's that some Bots have been part of scientific experiments which dampen their emotions to make them "more objective", but it just makes it hard for them to understand abstract ideas like "fun" or "joy" or "hate". Some of these Bots develop anxiety problems, obsessiveness, perfectionism, etc. Chase is one of these Bots.

Chase blinked in abject confusion. “Ahem. I beg your pardon,” he ventured, unsure of how to phrase his question.

“You’re failing this area of the course,” his instructor repeated. Chase was aware enough to know that the older mech was trying to be gentle about it, but the words made his spark turn in a distinctly uncomfortable way. “I’m sorry, Chase, but you’re just having trouble keeping up. Thus far, your record has been quite impressive, but the fact remains that your last test score is a setback—a significant one.”

“I will catch up,” Chase stated surely, before his processor had really calculated what the words would mean. It didn’t matter, really; he would do whatever it took. The thought of falling behind, of failing the Academy, his teammates, the people he wanted to help…His spark twisted again, his internals with it.

The instructor stared at him, doubt clear enough on his features for even Chase to see. “Well, I appreciate your dedication. I appreciate you trying, but I think you might just be more comfortable in another area. As I said, everything you’ve done up to this point is remarkable, but this is a crucial study and—”

“Sir, I can and will catch up.” Chase’s confident tone didn’t fluctuate, but it softened and his optics lowered to stare at the desk between them. He couldn’t fail; he couldn’t lose this. Training to be a Rescue Bot was the only thing in his life that was his, entirely his, something he had latched onto despite everything set against him. “Allow me the time to study, sir, and I believe I can learn what I need. I…” Ex-venting softly, he laid a hand over his bare metal, where the Rescue Bot sigil would be. “…can ask nothing more. There’s nothing that I _want_ more.”

 

* * *

 

 _I must keep that at the forefront of my thoughts. This is my duty,_ Chase reminded himself tiredly, the memory tumbling and jumbling together in his mind. Sighing deeply, the policemech leaned back in his chair, letting his optics flicker to a dimmer setting against the glare of his computer screen. Of its own volition his hand found its way to the bridge of his olfactory sensor, gingerly massaging the area in a futile attempt to stave off an oncoming helm-ache.

For a few minutes, Chase simply sat in the dark, empty room and listened to the idle hum of his own systems, overly loud in the silence. Glancing briefly at his chronometer, he found it was nearly 2:30 in the morning. Those numbers weren’t an unusual sight now, but Chase was starting to wish that his programming would stave off fatigue with all of the other feelings it withheld from him.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been in this position and placement, but his backstrut was starting to ache, the individual struts clamping hard underneath the mesh, and his internals were contracting painfully at the lack of fuel. When was the last time he refueled?  Each orn had melded into the other with the same routine. Maybe there was some energon in the cabinet near the back of the study room…

The next thing he knew, someone had a hand on his shoulder. Chase shot upright in his seat, instantly alert, only to wince and shutter his optics against the blinding flood of light, pressing his fingers firmly against them for good measure.

“Oh, sorry,” the intruder’s all too familiar voice sent another lance of pain through Chase’s helm. There was a brief clank of feet and then the orb lamp that had turned on darkened to a more comfortable setting. “How’s that? Any better?”

“Yes, thank you, Heatwave,” Chase murmured, gradually making out the outline of Heatwave’s figure in the shadows. Frowning, he glanced at his chronometer and added as an afterthought, “Why are you here at…three in the morning?”

Rolling his optics, Heatwave re-approached, leaning against the edge of Chase’s computer desk and folding his arms. “Why are _you_ here?” he echoed back pointedly. “You shouldn’t be pushing yourself like this.”

“It cannot be helped. It’s been made clear to me that the studies I’ve been doing aren’t enough,” Chase admitted. “This seemed to be the best time to use the study room, when the resources I need wouldn’t be in use.”

“You won’t be using them all that much either if you’re drifting,” Heatwave pointed out.

“I’m aware. As I said, it cannot be helped.” Rubbing his optics a second time, Chase blinked blearily at the computer screen immediately in front of him. Perhaps if he made a physical indication that he was returning to work, Heatwave would accept it.

Mouth twisting skeptically, the firemech followed his gaze to the screen and its contents. “Psychology?” he questioned rhetorically, surprised. Leaning over the desk, he whisked a data pad from the top of the stack near Chase’s left elbow. “Why are you…? Chase, who told you that your ‘studies aren’t enough?’ You’re one of the smartest bots I know and definitely one of the best test-takers—”

“My senior officer has temporarily removed me from our class’s training exercises,” Chase snapped. “Apparently the understanding and reading of emotions is the key to negotiation.”

Heatwave’s spark sank. “Aw, Pits, Chase…that’s not…That doesn’t mean you need to read every data pad here in one night! It’s not good for you—it’s not good for _anyone_ and you know it.”

Chase shook his helm wordlessly, shoulders slumping. He did know—at least, on some conscious level. He knew that in his current state, he was less productive than if he were to just have recharged and come back later to continue. But he couldn't quite get himself to admit it, even though his vision was starting to blur out of focus again.

“Actually, Heatwave, it’s been three nights,” he explained, not considering the idea that the words might make his friend all the more determined. He barely noticed Heatwave setting the data pad down and pushing himself off the desk; in fact he wasn’t aware he had moved at all until the other mech was coaxing him out of the chair onto shaky feet.

“C’mon, lean on me,” Heatwave urged curtly. “You’re going to recharge and I’ll make sure someone knows you’re off duty tomorrow.”

“Hmm?” Chase acknowledged the words lightly. When they actually registered, however, he straightened, trying to backpedal slightly. “No, no…” Just because he _wanted_ to obey didn’t mean he could; he still had a lot to learn and very little time in which to learn it. “I can’t…”

“Enough,” his friend cut him off, putting an arm around his shoulders to steer him more accurately out of the room. Aside from reaching back and grabbing his computer, Chase didn’t do anything to physically stop him, so he ignored his half-sparked protests, speaking over him, “Relax. Really, you’ve done enough.” 

“But—”

“No. Do I have to drag you out the door?” Halting abruptly, the firemech tightened his hold on his friend’s shoulders and added in a lower voice, “Do you want to know why I came? It was because Inferno called; he was up hauling Red Alert away from his work too because he’s been pulling all-nighters for a _quintun_. You two are a bit alike, so ’Ferno thought I should make sure you didn’t start trying to turn your desk into a berth.”

“I wouldn’t—”

“I know you wouldn’t,” Heatwave concurred. “You’d probably just keep going until your fuel reserves guttered and you ended up in stasis. You wouldn’t even think to worry about yourself, which is why _I_ do.”

Chase stared, slightly taken aback at the directness of the statement. _He looks a bit tired too,_ he realized, his EM field flicking lightly in what he recognized as the unpleasant sensation of guilt.

“You don’t need to…I never…” he stammered, at something of a loss.

“So for both our sakes, can we call it a night?” Heatwave questioned rhetorically, propelling him away from the desk with renewed vigor. Chase almost wanted to argue further, but his reluctance to make Heatwave angry pushed any protests from his mind—or perhaps it was the buzzing numbness of three or four all-nighters causing him to go blank? Either way, he finally admitted defeat with a minute nod, following Heatwave’s lead. He wasn’t sure how his computer ended up out of his hand and into his partner’s, but all of his systems were starting to revolt, so he didn’t have the energy to fight for it.

The last thing Chase remembered from that night was that Heatwave tailgated him the entire way back to their Academy suite and when he pointed it out, his friend just threw a thermal tarp at him and chuckled affectionately. “Oh, yeah? You know you’re never going to live down _your_ drowsy driving, right?”

The policemech was out cold before he could even consider being embarrassed.

**Author's Note:**

> Unlike most of my other Rescue Bots stories, this idea didn't come from a prompt from a reader. This all came out of my pondering the question, "With all of his trouble understanding turns of phrase and other abstract things, how on Cybertron did Chase ever pass Negotiation training to become a policemech?" Through a lot of late-nighters, that's how, but _all_ -nighters are out of the question! They just make everything worse ;w;
> 
> I hope you liked it! Please leave some kudos or a comment; I'd love to hear from you!
> 
> P.S.: Today I finally was able to bring myself to watch the Series Finale for Rescue Bots (yeah, I know, I'm late XD) and in the end I just broke down and cried (yeah, I know, I'm wimpy XD) But because I want this series to be my ongoing homage to the show, I need some more inspiration. Feel free to send a prompt my way; I need to write things for these two silly boys so I can cope! <3


End file.
